His gaze swept down her body. She was still wet from the bath and the tiny scrap of towel fell only to the very tops of her thighs. “I’m aroused,” he answered in his usual forthright tone.
“Ah, I see. Hard to hide on your planet, I guess.” She laughed nervously, then gestured back toward the bathing room of his ship. “I’m done.”
“My turn?” His gaze rose, and when it met with hers, she gasped. His pupils had tightened to a narrow feline shape. He reached for the button of his trousers.
She couldn’t help but watch, and when he pushed down the tight black fabric, Amy’s heart pounded in shock. Yes, he was aroused. He was also very big. And blue. And textured with little ridges that skipped down the entire length of his shaft.
Ribbed,
they called it back on earth.
For added pleasure.
The towel slipped from Amy’s grasp and Jamal began to purr.
“I left a message on his cell phone,” she’d explained. “He’ll probably be here by seven. If you make plans with Mr. Jennings again, you may want to fudge the time by thirty minutes.”
“I already did,” Lori had said, and the woman’s cool expression had immediately warmed.
“A smart move. There are magazines on the—”
“I brought a book to read.”
Jane’s eyebrows had risen. “Very smart, indeed. Your reservations are for seven-fifteen. Have an enjoyable evening.”
Another tick of the minute hand sounded from the clock before Lori heard the distinctive thud of a car door closing outside. She tucked the book into her purse and stood, smoothing out her skirt as she rose. The dark gray linen dress would probably be hopelessly wrinkled before the night was out, but she loved it and it had been on sale. And it went with the red shoes. Lori simply couldn’t afford to buy another pair for this date, and she didn’t think Quinn had seen them the first time anyway. She was just tugging the plunging neckline of the dress up when the door flew open.
Her neckline fell right back to its original position as Quinn burst into the room, cell phone to his ear. Her phone started to ring, then cut off when he snapped his phone shut. “Lori!”
“Hey, Quinn.”
“I’m sorry, I lost track of time.”
“I know.” Even if she had been irritated with him, her annoyance would have disappeared in the next moment. Quinn’s eyes lost the glint of panic and focused on her chest. Then his gaze dipped lower, sliding over her hips and legs and down to her shoes.
“Wow.”
She smiled.
His eyes rose, moving even slower this time, until he finally met her gaze. “My God, Lori.”
“What?” she asked coyly, trying not to let the smile turn to a maniacal grin. “Is something wrong?”
“I’m just glad I’m not eating any jicama right now, that’s all.”
Laughing, Lori didn’t notice that he’d moved closer until he took one of her hands in his. Her eyes popped wide-open just as he leaned close to kiss her cheek.
“Oh,” she blurted out as too many things hit her at once. His heat, the scent of his shampoo, the bare rasp of his cheek against her skin. And his lips. On her. And then he stepped away before she could jump his bones.
“You look unbelievably beautiful,” he said easily, as if that weren’t the first time a man had said that to her. “Are you ready to go?”
“Yeah, I’ve been ready.” More than ready. Ready to skip dinner altogether. That book had been good, but Quinn was something better. His gray suit pants fit perfectly, framing slim hips, and the French-blue dress shirt stretched across those wide shoulders.
“Sorry,” he said again, reaching for a suit jacket that hung on a coatrack. The shirt grew taut, then looser again before it was hidden beneath the coat. He pulled a tie from his pocket, flipped up his collar, and proceeded to dress in front of her. As if they’d just woken up together. As if they’d just finished having sex.
God, she wanted to do him.
He glanced at his watch. “We’d better get going.”
If this were one of her books, she’d put a stop to this dinner business. She’d unzip the back of her dress and strip down to her brand-new underwear and matching bra. Tell him all she wanted to eat was him. Tell him she wanted it hard and fast and
now.
But she was just Lori Love, girl mechanic, and she didn’t have the guts to put what she wanted into words even if it was the whole point of this date. Pitiful.
Maybe she should call the whole thing off. If—
His hand left a two-inch trail of white fire down her upper arm when he touched her. “Shall we?”
Throat frozen with wants and demands and dirty words that she couldn’t force out, Lori couldn’t speak. She couldn’t say what she wanted, but God she
wanted.
Wanted this just for herself and no one else. So she took the hand Quinn offered and silently led him out the door.
He didn’t say anything, either, just waved her toward a silver car that was parked at a panicked angle near the entrance. Lori looked over the car and felt her body settle back into her skin. This was something she knew. Her throat opened up.
“Nice car.”
He glanced at the Audi A6 as if he’d never seen it before. “I guess. It’s got four-wheel drive.”
“Ah. Of course.” Nothing about the horsepower or the supercharged V6. The car got him where he wanted to go and that was that. Everything in his life functioned as a simple vehicle for his passion and skill.
She wondered suddenly if Quinn had sprung fully formed from the head of Zeus, because he was certainly nothing like his parents. Mr. Jennings had run the town feed store, and Mrs. Jennings was a no-nonsense housewife, the daughter of a rancher. He came from people who drove American trucks with big engines and oversize tires. People who never dreamed bigger than wanting to own a few more acres of land than their parents had. People like her.
Quinn was different…shiny and polished from the constant flow of letting his own dreams wash over him.
When he settled into the driver’s seat and flashed her a smile, Lori’s throat froze again, so full of need that she wondered if she’d cry. She wanted sex with him, there was no doubt about that. But maybe more than that, she wanted a little of that glow to rub off on her bare skin, wanted to feel what she’d felt as a younger woman.
Her glow was long gone, now she just wanted a taste of Quinn’s.
“Why are you looking at me?” she finally demanded.
“We’re on a date.”
She watched greedily as he tipped the bottle and poured golden light into her glass. “So you’re always an attentive date?”
Quinn’s eyes crinkled at the edges when he smiled. “Probably not, no. But I’m trying to figure you out. It’s taking all my powers of concentration.”
She shifted. “I’m simple enough.”
“Hardly.” His eyes dipped to the tiny bit of cleavage she’d been trying to cover earlier. “You’re a complicated woman.”
“Oh, yeah. I’m deep and mysterious, all right. A real enigma.”
“Mmm.” His eyes narrowed in study. “I can tell you’re trying to be funny—”
“Trying?”
“But you really are a mystery.”
She arched an eyebrow, irritated by the scrutiny. “An exotic taste of the underclass, Quinn?”
His faint smile faded. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Nothing.” Nothing except there wasn’t anything mysterious about her. Just another girl stuck in her hometown, going nowhere. Maybe she could sell the movie rights.
“Since this is our first date, I’ll let that slide. But don’t think I’m not paying attention. We’ll talk about your issues later.”
Lori shook her head. “There are no issues during a meaningless affair. I’m an empty shell.”
“Mmm.” His smile returned, as did the spark of sexual interest in his eyes. “You look particularly soft and warm for an empty shell.”
She resisted the urge to tug her neckline up again.
“Now back to your nonissues,” he pressed. “I’ve been thinking about you, Lori Love. What’s with the heels and dresses?”
“I’m a girl.” The wine pushed warmth deep into her muscles, forcing out some of the tension. She was a girl. And she
was
soft and warm.
“Does this have something to do with those books Molly writes?”
The wine receded a little, traitorous and unreliable as far as courage went. Lori swallowed more to keep herself from choking on panic. “You told her about us? What else did she say? She shouldn’t have told you anything.”
“No, I didn’t tell her. She just happened to mention that you were a fan.”
“Good.”
“Why?”
Lori took her turn to study him, look him over. He was handsome and so sexy in his bookish way. His hands so elegant that she wanted to pick one up and stroke it. Suck a finger deep into her mouth, just to get them both hot and wondering. But she couldn’t do that kind of thing if she was always thinking of Quinn as Molly’s big brother. He was her sex object now, pure and simple. And he was waiting for an answer.
“It’s hotter this way,” she forced out, and watched his eyebrows head for his hairline. “A secret affair. Discreet. And naughty.”
“Naughty,” he repeated, though his mouth hardly moved.
“Yes.”
God bless the wine that had loosened her tongue, because the spark of interest in Quinn’s eyes exploded into fireworks of lust. “I have absolutely no interest in telling my sister a damn thing.”
“What sister?” Lori countered.
Quinn threw back his head and laughed, while Lori thought about licking her way up that strong, tanned neck.
A passing man interrupted her daydream. “Quinn,” he said in surprise, reaching out his hand. “How you doing?” His deep Texas drawl rumbled from a barrel chest.
“Great! Lori, this is Bill Adkinson. He owns one of the big title companies in town.”
Lori shook his hand and tried hard to listen politely to the men’s conversation, but her mind had gotten stuck on a sudden thought.
Maybe she could use Quinn for
more
than sex. Maybe she could use him to figure out why her land was so interesting to so many people.
“Sorry about that,” Quinn said, clueing Lori in to the fact that his friend was walking away.
“Oh, no problem. I thought it was interesting.”
He smiled. “Really? Because you looked a little glazed over there.”
As she laughed, she decided on her approach. “Hey, do you know Chris Tipton? He was in my class in high school and I hear he’s a big developer now.”
“Sure, Tipton & Tremaine.”
“Do you work with them?”
Quinn shook his head as the salad plates arrived. “Most of my clients are individual home owners. Big developers want too much of a say in the design. I prefer to work from scratch. It’s more fun.”
Shit. “So you don’t work with developers at all?”
“I worked with a few when I was first starting out. It’s a good way to get your name out there. But now I only pick up projects with Anton/Bliss. They do some really great work on small, upscale developments.”
Anton/Bliss?
That was one of the names Helen had given her. Jackpot! “So are you working on anything for them right now?” She took a bite of spinach salad and tried to look casual.
“No, not really,” he answered, and the bubble of hope growing in her chest deflated. “I’ve got my hands full with about a dozen builds going on right now. Summer is busy as hell, of course. And then there’s my personal project, which is taking more time than I…” His gaze slid down to her chest. “Um, Lori?”
“Hmm?” Well, what had she expected, some grand revelation that, yes indeed, he was working on a top secret project for Anton/Bliss involving the very land that Lori had inherited from her dad?
Quinn cleared his throat. “You’ve got salad dressing on your, ah, chest.”
Worried she’d ruined her new dress, Lori glanced down, only to find that her linen dress was safe. But a tiny drop of honey dressing clung to the rounded top of her cleavage, slowly sliding its way toward the very low, very wide V of her neckline. Lori caught it with her finger and raised it to her lips, licking away the dressing before it occurred to her that she was in a nice restaurant and not The Bar.
“Oops,” she said around her finger. Cringing, she looked up at Quinn, thinking she’d better apologize, but his expression stopped her.
Lids heavy, hazel eyes blazing with heat, he watched her mouth, watched her slide her finger out. His gaze narrowed even more. She licked her lips and his own pressed tight together. When she wiped her hand on her napkin, his eyes fell back to her cleavage.
Lori forgot all about Anton/Bliss and decided her attention would be better spent concentrating on eating. Fast.